I woke up turned on. Usually I wake up turned on only after a particularly energetic make out session the night before, kind of an afterglow, but no. No kisses for the nellebean the night before; just a big empty bed and a big empty week stretching ahead. Well, actually, I had been telling myself that I would go down to Tempe this weekend.
How awful is this? I know I need to go to Tempe, to pick up my mail and some stuff still at my parents, but I want to go now, before my mom gets back from camping. She's due back the 4th. I told my boy this, and he can't really believe it. He seems to think I'm being mean in a way. But no, it's just that my mom has been so mean the last few times I've talked to her, and I really don't want to get into it with her right now. There's plenty for her to nag me about, and I just don't want to hear it. Now, is that so bad? I don't think so.
I need more sweet phrases stored in my head, but my boy just doesn't do that kind of thing, he's not really into the whole 'sweet nothings' thing. It's really because he's not very good at it, needs more practice, says I, but no. It's kind of funny how things come out wrong for him. For example:
We were at a party, and I'm in the kitchen and this guy starts hitting on me. Starts telling me about this knock-out drink he mixes that I should try, but that they don't have the materials for it here, maybe we could go back to his place later and he'd make it for me (yes, it was that blatant, if it hadn't been I wouldn't have realized he was hitting on me). I'm standing there, smiling and nodding, when my boy walks around the corner, puts his arm around me and kisses me right there.
We walk out of the kitchen together, and outside I tease, "So you saw that guy hitting on me and you had to get a little protective, eh? Make you nervous?" And he says, "What?" And I say, "That guy... who was talking to me..." And he says, "Oh, who? I didn't even notice." And I say, "So you weren't watching and telling him to stay away from your girlfriend?" And he says, "Oh, I didn't even see you talking to someone. Besides, I know I don't have to worry about you." And I said, "Gee, thanks." And he said, "That's not what I meant..." Which I knew, but.
I hate just knowing things. I want to hear them sometimes, too. Well, I do hear them sometimes, just not as often as I would like.
I'm like the opposite of Eliza and Freddy in My Fair Lady. The part where Eliza says something to the effect of "Words, words, words...if you really love me show me. Show me." I get plenty of action, I want more words.